tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-62199356429207966342018-04-04T21:03:50.109+05:30purple pitaraAfter a lot of dillydallying- a blog of my own ! a space for my experiences of the universe's magical ways - seen through the lens of a woman, a teacher, a mother. I am amazed at what some apparently simple moments of life throw up for me to explore & to learn. This space is some kind of a record of how I make meaning of such simple moments. A rather cautious entry to the world of blogging - an experiment to see what it would feel to give such a concrete shape and permanent form to my musing!purple pitarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00426253190781670126noreply@blogger.comBlogger72125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6219935642920796634.post-59668551791826319722018-02-06T23:27:00.000+05:302018-04-04T21:03:50.107+05:3010 Days of Self-care<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GsO_styL7cA/WnnsUJptJBI/AAAAAAAABSM/Lt20X3vBmw0LSNqwdo7ybi9hU466EVtEgCLcBGAs/s1600/HotPinkFrangipani1-300x239.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="239" data-original-width="300" height="158" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GsO_styL7cA/WnnsUJptJBI/AAAAAAAABSM/Lt20X3vBmw0LSNqwdo7ybi9hU466EVtEgCLcBGAs/s200/HotPinkFrangipani1-300x239.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div class="MsoPlainText">On my way home after having spent 10 days at RK nature cure centre. This has been the first of its kind for me and also hugely inspired by my dear friend Bhanu who has such commitment to her health. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoPlainText"><br /></div><div class="MsoPlainText">While the first three days, I kept thinking of my decision as a huge step towards self care and self love, over the 10 days, I feel like I have developed a new relationship with my body. The first three days were really tough given the tea deprivation headaches I got, as were the last two days when I just craved for my normal routine back home. Despite these tough times, I feel this was one of those rare times when my body led the day and not my mind. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoPlainText"><br /></div><div class="MsoPlainText">The most significant insight for me at the end of this period has been: To eat food based on what my stomach needs and not allowing my head or even my heart to take that call - The generous portions of fruits, steamed veggies, juices - none that the head or the heart would have chosen - left my body feeling healthy and energetic. It helped me get a sense of the amount of food my body needs to work well through the day. It was also interesting to experience the body go through specific breaks between different meals. To actually create a gap of&nbsp; 14 hours between dinner and breakfast was surprisingly easy ( when done the right way). It was after the longest time that I was having every single meal at the table, sometimes alone, sometimes with a friend, and not in front of the screen. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoPlainText">This helped me get a more real sense of how my body was experiencing the food. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoPlainText"><br /></div><div class="MsoPlainText">The other interesting learning was slowing down in exercise. And in each stretch, each aasan to pay attention to the breath. The slowing down while it got me more aware of how much addicted I am to multitasking or act with a sense of urgency, it also helped me notice my body in a different way. There were things I noticed that I didn't like - the flab, the loss of flexibility, and yet despite that to pamper the body with the daily massage, was an act of deep acceptance. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoPlainText"><br /></div><br /><div class="MsoPlainText">I am leaving the place with a new relationship with my body and with&nbsp; food. I am also inspired to live life with a focus on wellness. Hoping to sustain this once I am back in the much missed home and routine!&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></div></div>purple pitarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00426253190781670126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6219935642920796634.post-41304834047164894642018-01-03T22:51:00.000+05:302018-01-03T22:51:12.752+05:30That's why it's Magic!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The blessings of having a book worm, nay, a book dragon for a daughter is the amazing range of literature she has been introducing to me - specially so in the last two years. Thanks to her incessant demand that her mum should read more fiction and the fabulous library <a href="http://cfl.in/" target="_blank">her school </a>houses, I've discovered authors, plots, narrative styles and just sheer magic in so many places.&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Last year, there were a spate of books that made me cry my heart out. Think the kiddo saw I needed something that would lift my spirits up and come this new year, she left on my bed this <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/6345760-the-magician-s-elephant" target="_blank">book by Kate DiCamillo&nbsp;</a>.&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gueTyXJOav4/Wk0OjAzsvqI/AAAAAAAABQ0/8_M1UbzfxecySKlH8mV-NeYSiOvS4KIZgCLcBGAs/s1600/Book.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="302" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gueTyXJOav4/Wk0OjAzsvqI/AAAAAAAABQ0/8_M1UbzfxecySKlH8mV-NeYSiOvS4KIZgCLcBGAs/s320/Book.jpg" width="212" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">A simple tale, with the power of hope, belief and compassion, The Magician's Elephant reminded me about the simple, yet deeply imaginative worlds that children (and the child part of grown-ups) live in. As much as I resonated with the magician's desire to do something extraordinary, so did I with the elephant's longing for home and finding connection under the most unlikely circumstances.</span><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Some of the lines that lingered after I had finished the book:</span><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"Leo Matienne had the soul of a poet, and because of this, he liked very much to consider questions that had no answers.” <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"It is important that you say what you mean to say. Time is too short. You must speak the words that matter."<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><br /><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">“We must ask ourselves these questions as often as we dare. How will the world change if we do not question it?"</span><o:p></o:p></div></div>purple pitarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00426253190781670126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6219935642920796634.post-61665378489030126052018-01-01T11:32:00.002+05:302018-01-01T11:48:53.191+05:302018 - here I come!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qiMMIwNXeaA/WknSifbJmHI/AAAAAAAABQM/AnH3d_HQlPcR_WGRVrqwlpLMvKUuOn1OQCLcBGAs/s1600/newyear.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="225" data-original-width="225" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qiMMIwNXeaA/WknSifbJmHI/AAAAAAAABQM/AnH3d_HQlPcR_WGRVrqwlpLMvKUuOn1OQCLcBGAs/s1600/newyear.jpg" /></a>I LOVE NEW YEARS DAY! and the ones heralding an even numbered one is specially my favourite.<br /><br />I know I've had friends and colleagues saying - "big deal, its just a date". While earlier it was enough to trigger a rant from me, right now I am able to just aspect that attitude being another option as much as my own YAY-a-new-year-is beginning-here-I-come!!<br /><br />Of course I make resolutions, of course they start to fade away, and yet each new year's day, I am filled with a renewed sense of hope and possibilities. And irrespective of what friends say, this sense of hope, of getting another fresh shot at life is a feeling i zealously guard coz optimism otherwise doesn't come this easy to me!<br /><br />For the last two years, instead of setting resolutions, I have been setting intentions for myself. A three word piece that helps me anchor my focus for the rest of the year.<br /><br />for 2018 my intention is:<br />- Creative<br />- Mindfulness<br />and<br />- Health.<br /><br />Lets see how the rest of the year unfolds.<br /><br /></div>purple pitarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00426253190781670126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6219935642920796634.post-58061225715091954542017-07-25T08:31:00.000+05:302017-07-25T08:31:26.905+05:30Music Flashback<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Driving back late evening after an invigorating dance class, wanting to listen to the radio to relax. The FM channel declares "Flashback Hour". I smile - a B&amp;W visual of Madhubala and Kishore Kumar on a boat as I ready myself to listen to "haal kaisa hai janab ka".....<br /><br />Instead what pops up on radio is a song from Dil toh pagal hai (the title track) followed by a passionate rendering of Aye ajnabi tu bhi kabhi avaaz de kahi se (Dil Se). When did these become flashback?!!! I mean these are movies I've watched in theaters with friends back in college. These are from the motley of songs I would hum all day thinking of my crushes.....<br /><br />As the third song pops up - Anna mere pyar ko na tum (Kabhi haa Kabhi na), I'm like - oh so flashback hour is a Shahrukh special.....when did Shahrukh become so old. WAIT A MINUTE - when did i grow so old 😲 . And if the 1990s are the flashback - whatever happens to all those Bhoole Bisre Geet numbers are grew up listening to.....<br /><br />There was only one way to deal with this existential crisis - turn the radio off and on the top of my voice sing <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bFPDaDoruTY" target="_blank">this</a>&nbsp;for the rest of the ride home!<br /><br /></div>purple pitarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00426253190781670126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6219935642920796634.post-67487917638535750962017-07-23T21:01:00.003+05:302017-07-23T21:01:58.351+05:30The grass on either side.........<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Was facilitating a workshop on Narrative leadership the other day. When it came to me sharing my own experiences as examples of my own leadership, all stories seemed to be from the time that I was at&nbsp;<a href="http://www.magicpuddles.com/" target="_blank">Magic Puddles</a>. Professionally while there was a lot of joy in being in the role of co-founder, it was extremely challenging. Working with really young kids, being responsible for their safety, building a team, supporting them through their high and lows while I grappled with my own - all a recipe for huge personal turmoils. However, given the level of challenges, it was an immersive experience. I could never really switch off from that - no matter what time of the day or even if we were on a so-called summer break. The immersion helped me hone my leadership by challenging me in very new and different ways on several occasions. Also regular monthly income was something that really helped!<br /><br />In comparison, the last three years of being solo, of collaborating with peers and not really building an organization or team, has been a lot more easy personally. As a professional, there has been a call to stop playing small, with no one to hide behind. I &nbsp;experience a lot of freedom - specially to what i can say yes or no to. And yes, its a lot easier to walk away from something I don't enjoy, its equally tough to walk into something I really wish for myself. There is a lot less control over how projects go with multiple stakeholders coming into the picture. I have more scope to experiment, idea to something tangible is a shorter journey. But with each idea wanting to be birthed, often I find myself really alone in taking it through as I grappled with unpredictable work load and income.<br /><br />Will I continue to play solo or move towards building an organization - at this point, I really don't know. All I know is, having been on either sides of the fence, there is no such thing as "greener grass"! Its just which landscape seems more inviting. And even as I enjoy being on one specific side for now, i do trust that if there is a need to be on the other, the universe will show up something!</div>purple pitarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00426253190781670126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6219935642920796634.post-18999369361207539482017-07-11T19:13:00.002+05:302017-07-16T11:07:27.392+05:30and that's how we get it moving!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Nia all of 12 is back from school. She has a ritual - 45 mins of reading with her evening snack to wind down - then get on with chores for the evening - her dance practice, bath, a little bit of homework and getting ready for the next day.<br /><br />I try not to schedule meetings around the time she comes. I love hanging out with her - getting snippets about how her 2 days at school have been, how mine have been (and an occasional lecture about something she missed doing before she left for school).<br /><br />Nia, of course, has no intention of engaging. She zealously guards her me-time (something I am hoping she'll remember to do all her life). So today, as i am continuing to play mamma - she fervently appeals to me, "Mamma please fix my snacks so that I can start my quiet time. I have grand plans for the evening - i need to do <i>this </i>and <i>that </i>and <i>this </i>and <i>that," </i>and in the same breath she adds, "And you right now are <b>my weakest link</b>!"<i>&nbsp;</i><br /><i><br /></i>Even as I burst out laughing at this absolute bang-on focus to get things moving for herself, this was enough to get me moving!</div>purple pitarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00426253190781670126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6219935642920796634.post-67604415014199069372017-07-11T17:32:00.000+05:302017-07-11T17:38:06.293+05:30A sacred space<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Working from home has its many benefits. Specially when I am blessed with a house and green community as beautiful as ours. The pain point does seem to be how blurred the boundaries become - between work and family, between my time and work time, between what to focus on vs everything else that seems unfinished around the house.<br /><br />It took me a while to figure this out for myself - the shift i needed to make is to accept this reality and then create clearer boundaries (first in my head and then for the rest of the family). Step 1: creating a clear physical boundary - to have a room only for work. Sure it meant taking over the guest room - and then having to give away our room when friends and family came visiting. But it has been truly worth the trade off!<br /><br />After the physical space was carved out, what helped me create an energetic boundary has been this special altar in one corner of the room. Each morning begins with attending to the altar, lighting the dhoop stick and taking in all the symbols and meanings of what I have placed there. The altar anchors me in my work world. In times of stress and confusion, it helps me anchor in myself. And it serves as a constant reminder to send out gratitude for the many blessings in life (including this very house!)<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_zwlp_E06bk/WWS_LBAsXEI/AAAAAAAABJw/JCywvJxOSE4neXJlhZAjK6fqojRWJ9qhgCLcBGAs/s1600/altar.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="647" data-original-width="1087" height="236" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_zwlp_E06bk/WWS_LBAsXEI/AAAAAAAABJw/JCywvJxOSE4neXJlhZAjK6fqojRWJ9qhgCLcBGAs/s400/altar.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br /></div>purple pitarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00426253190781670126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6219935642920796634.post-23321366628037917662017-07-05T22:26:00.001+05:302017-07-05T22:26:13.365+05:30Lessons from my little Buddha<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I am in Delhi over the last weekend - a rather unusual work commitment. Nia is excited about coming and picking me at the airport. The practical, sensible me of course thinks its an awful idea.<br /><br />Here's how the conversation unfolds:<br /><br />Nia: we are coming to pick you up<br /><br />Me: of course not - i'll see you at home<br /><br />Nia: but whyyyyyyyyy??<br /><br />Me: Coz it just doesn't make sense. Its Sunday evening, you'll be tired after your dance class. Its a really long ride for Pappa. You need to pack and have your bath and figure out dinner. I'd rather have you finish all that by the time i get home so that I don't have to nag you - and then i just get relaxed time with you<br /><br />Nia: Look it doesn't make sense because you club it all together. <b><i>Let's deconstruct it - one problem at a time.</i></b><br />And over the next two minutes - she breaks it down - one issue at a time - giving very doable solutions for each:<br /><br />tired after dance class - i'll take it easy<br />long ride - we'll leave early<br />you don't want to have to nag me - i take complete responsibility<br />dinner - pack a subway for me, i'll eat it on the way back<br />(you get the gist)<br /><br />Me: Look can i just talk to pappa?<br /><br />Nia: It'll be unfair to bring him into this discussion without giving him a background. Can you hold for a couple of minutes? (some quick whispering and mumbling) OK here you can now talk to him.<br /><br /><br />I think I am hiring this child to be my COO!<br /></div>purple pitarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00426253190781670126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6219935642920796634.post-89593940327527711332015-08-16T10:00:00.001+05:302015-08-16T10:00:04.310+05:30Celebrating 40 years of a great life!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"> <br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Wow 40 years on this planet! Seems like a lot. Has been no joy ride for sure. Yet despite the lows and the painful moments, and huge doses of beating-myself-up, it hit me last week about how immensely grateful I feel. For the life I have had. For the relationships I have had and continue to have – solid at my back. For the ways of the universe in supporting my whims and dreams. For my ability to see and speak my truth tough as it may be.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">And will this immense gratitude – there was a need therefore to celebrate the day by reaching out in some way to the many many people who have made my life so meaningful and special. One of these reaching out and talking to my dear friend Priya, led to a decision to mark the start of the next year on earth with 40 of something. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">So as usual, ambitious plans that I also happily shared with anyone who cared to listen. And based on reactions, I decided what I would say and how much. Yes I got a range of reactions – the rare ones in the range of “that’s inspiring” but mostly falling in varying degrees of banter. But it did feel great to speak it out loud even as the idea was forming in my head. And today, just a day after my birthday, I see myself as curious and excited about how the 40 BD resolution and the year ahead will pan out. <o:p></o:p></span></div><br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Given that this is my space – where I can say the idea fully – here’s what it is – “A year of 40s”. What that means so far is:<o:p></o:p></span></div><br /><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 36pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">-</span><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Calibri;">40 road trips<o:p></o:p></span></div><br /><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 36pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">-</span><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Calibri;">40 new songs on the keyboard<o:p></o:p></span></div><br /><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt 36pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">-</span><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Calibri;">40 traditional recipes (hopefully learnt from a person and not a book)<o:p></o:p></span></div><br /><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt 36pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">-</span><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Calibri;">40 day practices – rituals along self-care, healing and connections<o:p></o:p></span></div><br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Hope to document this journey over the next one year. One reason – to bring in focus, and discipline. And the other motivation - that my baby reads this when I am not there to talk about it and remembers what it meant to have a mom like me!<o:p></o:p></span></div></div>purple pitarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00426253190781670126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6219935642920796634.post-54889207209760811972014-10-04T21:28:00.001+05:302014-10-04T21:30:12.206+05:30Today I wish...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Having a smart phone has many advantages but a big bummer past few months has been zero writing. Thanks to FB links and forwards, I now end up reading such well written pieces that my own musings and articulation seems to pale in comparison. Recently I ended up lecturing a friend about feeling free to express without judging and a little voice inside nudged, "how about practising what you preach?!"<br /><br />So here's a re- reentry! I thought of posting some of my poetry. In the past few months, attempts at writing poetry have been a healing, creative process. I find myself stuck in a situation, a mood and attempting to express that through poetry helps me work my way through it. It's clarifying as much as it is cathartic and I love these moments I give myself. Somehow limited exposure to poetry has somehow created a mindset in me that I need to rhyme. Only once have I written a piece when there was no such compulsion and here it is:<br /><br /><span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Noteworthy; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Today &nbsp;I wish ...</span></span><br /><div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Noteworthy; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Noteworthy; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Today &nbsp;I wish to bind myself to the &nbsp;earth,</span></div><div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Noteworthy; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Though I see the unending free skies stretching overhead.</span></div><div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Noteworthy; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Today I wish my hair strikes roots in the ground,</span></div><div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Noteworthy; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Though the winds strain to caress it.</span></div><div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Noteworthy; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Today I wish my feet get swallowed by the wet mud,</span></div><div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Noteworthy; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Though the dew kissed grass offers soft solidness. &nbsp;</span></div><div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Noteworthy; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">And though the thoughts scamper like restless squirrels on the branches,</span></div><div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Noteworthy; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Today I wish to be like a tree,&nbsp;</span></div><div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Noteworthy; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">grounded, and&nbsp;quietly swaying to the rhythms of the seasons.&nbsp;</span></div><div style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Noteworthy; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469);">P. S. my little girl, nia also seems to enjoy writing poetry and has been planning to blog herself. Can't wait to see her foray into the world of writing and blogging!&nbsp;</span></div></div></div>purple pitarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00426253190781670126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6219935642920796634.post-31745310840362826742013-02-17T11:59:00.001+05:302013-02-17T11:59:46.005+05:30Resolution for 2013 <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br /> <div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Trebuchet MS&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 11pt;"><strong>Finding me<o:p></o:p></strong></span></div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Trebuchet MS&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p>&nbsp;</o:p></span></div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Trebuchet MS&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 11pt;">In others I've sought to find myself<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Trebuchet MS&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 11pt;">How meaningless that now seems to be<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Trebuchet MS&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 11pt;">For it took me away from my own inner world <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Trebuchet MS&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 11pt;">That nurtured the introverted part of me. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Trebuchet MS&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p>&nbsp;</o:p></span></div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Trebuchet MS&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 11pt;">Am I doing enough for him? for her?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">&nbsp; </span>for them?<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Trebuchet MS&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 11pt;">These questions now need to change<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Trebuchet MS&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 11pt;">It's time to try out some new rules<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Trebuchet MS&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 11pt;">Even though they may seem a bit strange <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Trebuchet MS&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p>&nbsp;</o:p></span></div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Trebuchet MS&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 11pt;">Going silent than talking things out<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Trebuchet MS&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 11pt;">Seems to be the way of the world<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Trebuchet MS&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 11pt;">That I am now beginning to grasp<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Trebuchet MS&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 11pt;">As I console within me this girl<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Trebuchet MS&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 11pt;">Who always thought that confronting helped <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Trebuchet MS&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 11pt;">in healing relationships that matter <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Trebuchet MS&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 11pt;">But that seems far from the truth <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Trebuchet MS&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 11pt;">Now shoved beneath safe chatter. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Trebuchet MS&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p>&nbsp;</o:p></span></div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Trebuchet MS&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 11pt;">I am learning how we all have our own versions of truth. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Trebuchet MS&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 11pt;">Between two truths what's truer - who's to say! <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Trebuchet MS&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 11pt;">And self disclosure and confronting seem rather naive <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Trebuchet MS&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 11pt;">It's time for me to find a wiser way <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Trebuchet MS&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 11pt;">to sort thru the complications of these relationships <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Trebuchet MS&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 11pt;">To make meaning of my life <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Trebuchet MS&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 11pt;">To think through what it truly means to be me <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Trebuchet MS&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 11pt;">and not just a friend, a mother, a wife. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Trebuchet MS&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p>&nbsp;</o:p></span></div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Trebuchet MS&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 11pt;">To find myself I seek solitude now<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Trebuchet MS&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 11pt;">To dive into my own inner world where I belong <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Trebuchet MS&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 11pt;">The relationships, the reaching out can wait for a bit <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Trebuchet MS&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 11pt;">While I create my own rhythm, my song! <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoPlainText" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Trebuchet MS&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 11pt;"><o:p>&nbsp;</o:p></span></div></div>purple pitarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00426253190781670126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6219935642920796634.post-24865807498168750212013-02-17T11:56:00.002+05:302013-02-17T11:56:58.984+05:30Shadow Work & Poetry <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">End of 2012 - beginning 2013 - I see myself equally drawn to Jung's work and expression through poetry. I love the way Jungian analysts write - such richness and depth in their writing and at the same time - wirtten in ways that non-jungians can get. <br /><br />My current favourite author - James Hollis - his book on <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Why-Good-People-Things-Understanding/dp/1592403417" target="_blank">working with the Shadow </a>is definitely worth a read. Post reading that book - I have a way of working with what happens within me everything I expereince a strongly negative reaction instead of focusing on the outside. Sure, its wok for a lifetme - but I am able to see how I am able to work through some tough things within and emerge feeling a little more whole, a little more clearer and a lot more peaceful!<br /><br />So here's a poetry that emerged from my last such journey within (written in my room in Bangladesh):<br /><br /> <br /><div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: black; font-family: &quot;Maiandra GD&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Consolas;">In the Shadows of Silence..... </span></b><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Maiandra GD&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></div><br /><div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: &quot;Maiandra GD&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Consolas;">On a quiet afternoon, in an even quieter room,</span><span style="font-family: &quot;Maiandra GD&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><o:p></o:p></span></div><span style="color: black; font-family: &quot;Maiandra GD&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Consolas;">I sat by myself in anger and despair</span><span style="font-family: &quot;Maiandra GD&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><o:p></o:p></span><br /> <span style="color: black; font-family: &quot;Maiandra GD&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Consolas;">triggered by feeling isolated in a strange land, <o:p></o:p></span><br /> <span style="color: black; font-family: &quot;Maiandra GD&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Consolas;">craving for some conversation but no one to share. </span><span style="font-family: &quot;Maiandra GD&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><o:p></o:p></span><br /> <br /><div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: &quot;Maiandra GD&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Consolas;">It was then that my eye caught this waterbird – <o:p></o:p></span></div><span style="color: black; font-family: &quot;Maiandra GD&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Consolas;">Alone in the paddy field, motionless it stood <o:p></o:p></span><br /> <span style="color: black; font-family: &quot;Maiandra GD&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Consolas;">As I marvelled its stillness, its focus, <o:p></o:p></span><br /> <span style="color: black; font-family: &quot;Maiandra GD&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Consolas;">it seemed to telling me that I too should <o:p></o:p></span><br /> <span style="color: black; font-family: &quot;Maiandra GD&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Consolas;">stay still a while and go past the tears <o:p></o:p></span><br /> <span style="color: black; font-family: &quot;Maiandra GD&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Consolas;">to truly hear the crying of the soul <o:p></o:p></span><br /> <span style="color: black; font-family: &quot;Maiandra GD&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Consolas;">to confront what lies in the shadows within me <o:p></o:p></span><br /> <span style="color: black; font-family: &quot;Maiandra GD&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Consolas;">and listen to my silenced truths now waiting to be told. </span><span style="font-family: &quot;Maiandra GD&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><o:p></o:p></span><br /> <br /><div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: &quot;Maiandra GD&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Consolas;">It was then that I met this little child in me – <o:p></o:p></span></div><span style="color: black; font-family: &quot;Maiandra GD&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Consolas;">Scared, feeling unloved and even blamed <o:p></o:p></span><br /> <span style="color: black; font-family: &quot;Maiandra GD&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Consolas;">for the conflicts at home that she felt had to be sorted <o:p></o:p></span><br /> <span style="color: black; font-family: &quot;Maiandra GD&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Consolas;">and feeling confused why among adults no words were exchanged. </span><span style="font-family: &quot;Maiandra GD&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><o:p></o:p></span><br /> <br /><div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: &quot;Maiandra GD&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Consolas;">The silence seemed so threatening to her back then; <o:p></o:p></span></div><span style="color: black; font-family: &quot;Maiandra GD&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Consolas;">Eroding the sense of security that only family can bring <o:p></o:p></span><br /> <span style="color: black; font-family: &quot;Maiandra GD&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Consolas;">She dared not confront the grown-ups why they weren't talking , <o:p></o:p></span><br /> <span style="color: black; font-family: &quot;Maiandra GD&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Consolas;">Yet she desperately searched for words for her to cling. </span><span style="font-family: &quot;Maiandra GD&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><o:p></o:p></span><br /> <span style="color: black; font-family: &quot;Maiandra GD&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Consolas;">Clear loud words that would tell her she's not to be blamed <o:p></o:p></span><br /> <span style="color: black; font-family: &quot;Maiandra GD&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Consolas;">That the love and security she needn't ever doubt <o:p></o:p></span><br /> <span style="color: black; font-family: &quot;Maiandra GD&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Consolas;">Or even whispered words behind closed doors <o:p></o:p></span><br /><span style="color: black; font-family: &quot;Maiandra GD&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Consolas;">that would give clues of conversations, of fights sorted out. </span><span style="font-family: &quot;Maiandra GD&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><o:p></o:p></span><br /> <span style="color: black; font-family: &quot;Maiandra GD&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Consolas;">Of course those words never came - loud nor soft. <o:p></o:p></span><br /> <span style="color: black; font-family: &quot;Maiandra GD&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Consolas;">The wounds of that time partly healed, partly festering <o:p></o:p></span><br /> <span style="color: black; font-family: &quot;Maiandra GD&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Consolas;">It was then that I began to fully grasp for the first time <o:p></o:p></span><br /> <span style="color: black; font-family: &quot;Maiandra GD&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Consolas;">why with loved ones, I find silence so unsettling. </span><span style="font-family: &quot;Maiandra GD&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><o:p></o:p></span><br /> <br /><div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: &quot;Maiandra GD&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Consolas;">So I sat besides this child – still feeling abandoned and lost <o:p></o:p></span></div><span style="color: black; font-family: &quot;Maiandra GD&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Consolas;">and broke the silence to tell her that her grief I shared <o:p></o:p></span><br /> <span style="color: black; font-family: &quot;Maiandra GD&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Consolas;">I held her with my strength, my love, my wisdom <o:p></o:p></span><br /> <span style="color: black; font-family: &quot;Maiandra GD&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Consolas;">as I talked to her so she knows that i cared. </span><span style="font-family: &quot;Maiandra GD&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><o:p></o:p></span><br /> <br /><div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: &quot;Maiandra GD&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Consolas;">I spoke of how conversations needn't be only outside; <o:p></o:p></span></div><span style="color: black; font-family: &quot;Maiandra GD&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Consolas;">Of how within me there was this rich inner world <o:p></o:p></span><br /> <span style="color: black; font-family: &quot;Maiandra GD&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Consolas;">That held enough words of love, of support and safety <o:p></o:p></span><br /> <span style="color: black; font-family: &quot;Maiandra GD&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Consolas;">both for me the grown woman, and for the little girl. </span><span style="font-family: &quot;Maiandra GD&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><o:p></o:p></span><br /> <br /><div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: &quot;Maiandra GD&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Consolas;">Slowly the child within me felt understood, <o:p></o:p></span></div><span style="color: black; font-family: &quot;Maiandra GD&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Consolas;">And on the outside - me the woman - hopeful and light <o:p></o:p></span><br /> <span style="color: black; font-family: &quot;Maiandra GD&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Consolas;">Knowing that there would be many more such conversations <o:p></o:p></span><br /> <span style="color: black; font-family: &quot;Maiandra GD&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Consolas;">For now the silence, the aloneness seemed alright. </span><span style="font-family: &quot;Maiandra GD&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><o:p></o:p></span><br /> <br /><div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: &quot;Maiandra GD&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">&nbsp;</span></o:p></span></div></div>purple pitarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00426253190781670126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6219935642920796634.post-88348685951948993412012-10-24T16:52:00.000+05:302012-10-24T18:13:42.132+05:30Back from Hampi<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I am finding myself wanting more and more to look at creative ways of self expression and one of them has been poetry. Encouraged by a friend to do more of it, here's what emerged after a three day lovely break @ Hampi with family &amp; friends.<br /><br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><strong><span style="font-size: large;">Stories from Hampi</span></strong> </span></div><span style="font-family: Calibri;">If only these rocks could speak</span><br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">What stories would they choose to tell? </span></div><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Of the many events they bore silent witness to </span><br /><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Events that even history has dispelled</span><br /><br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Would they choose to talk of brothers</span></div><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Vali and Sughriva locked in a fight for life</span><br /><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Or of the devoted Laxmana following Rama</span><br /><span style="font-family: Calibri;">As he crossed these lands in search of his wife</span><br /><br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Or perhaps the tale would be of sisters</span></div><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Who for insulting these very lands,</span><br /><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Were cursed to become the Akka – Tangi Betta</span><br /><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Frozen in eternal rest, they now stand!</span><br /><br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Maybe the folklore of the chieftains Hukka and Bukka</span></div><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Is what the rocks might want to share</span><br /><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Who made this very land their kingdom</span><br /><span style="font-family: Calibri;">On sighting the hound being chased by the hare.</span><br /><br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Or maybe history would take precedence over myths</span></div><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Stories of Krishnadevaraya, the King</span><br /><span style="font-family: Calibri;">His bravery, his religious tolerance , love for poetry </span><br /><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Songs in his praise the rocks would sing!</span><br /><br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">W<span style="font-family: Calibri;">ould they, then, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">&nbsp;</span>swell up with pride</span></div><span style="font-family: Calibri;">As they begin to share the many forms</span><br /><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Of prosperity that radiated in this kingdom<br />In its bazaars, its streets, its religious icons</span><br /><br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">And then would they start to mourn</span></div><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The fall of this prosperous, mighty empire</span><br /><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Ruthlessly plundered by the Sultanate’s men</span><br /><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Then left to burn for months in the fire.</span><br /><br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Ah! Those tales of religious intolerance,</span></div><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Of greed, that these rocks could tell -</span><br /><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Even in today’s times, several centuries later</span><br /><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Those stories would still ring a bell</span><br /><br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">But the rocks know that history repeats</span></div><span style="font-family: Calibri;">That man from his mistakes learns less and less</span><br /><span style="font-family: Calibri;">So these rocks withhold their stories, their wisdom</span><br /><span style="font-family: Calibri;">And continue to stand in mute witness.</span><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Bi0ZYQdmLNs/UIfPFlrZp5I/AAAAAAAAAN8/MIqgxLqUTVM/s1600/hampi+collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="234" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Bi0ZYQdmLNs/UIfPFlrZp5I/AAAAAAAAAN8/MIqgxLqUTVM/s320/hampi+collage.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;">&nbsp;</span></o:p></div>&nbsp;</div>purple pitarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00426253190781670126noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6219935642920796634.post-72208771237982438652012-06-09T01:05:00.000+05:302012-06-09T01:05:37.681+05:30100 kilometres | team of 4 | 48 hours<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"> <div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Thats the <a href="http://www.trailwalker.in/" target="_blank">Oxfam trailwalker</a>– an event I participated in early this year. An event where a team of 6 of us friends (4 walkers and 2 as support team) participated under the name <strong>Terra Trots</strong>. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">&nbsp;</span>The amazing statistics of this first of its kind event organized by Oxfam in India:</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">No of teams registered – 80</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">No of 4-member teams who completed- 41</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">% of individuals who completed (not as intact teams) close to 85%</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The data that was highlighted at the finish point was obviously around the time records that these amazingly persistent <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">&nbsp;</span>teams had accomplished:</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Fastest all men’s team (Confident flying feet) –20 hours 36 minutes</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"> <span style="font-family: Calibri;">Fastest veteran team <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">&nbsp;</span>(Protek) – 24 hours 16 minutes</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Fastest mixed team <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">&nbsp;</span>(March of the Penguins) – <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">&nbsp;</span>28 hours 28 minutes<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </span> <span style="mso-tab-count: 1;">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"> <span style="font-family: Calibri;">Fastest Women’s team <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">&nbsp;</span>(Terra Trots) – 44 hours 36 minutes</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">We got our name up on that chart despite being among the possibly last 10% of the participants as far as speed goes was only because we were the only all women’s team among those registered that had completed the entire walk as a full team of 4. Back then, when we saw this table we laughed. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It didn’t seem as funny to me anymore when my team received an invite to the Oxfam awards night. I mean hadn’t ANYONE noticed the time we took? And there was this loud judging voice that said, “ NO WAY, I cannot go for this event. For one – I certainly don’t want to be the butt of sexist jokes!”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">But Terra Trots did attend that event early today. Where did that shift happen for me? </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Honestly, from the way I started when I first decided to participate in this event, that I would complete the walk seemed an unachievable goal even an hour before the walk (and of course several times during the walk itself). But even today, months after the event, the energetic high I feel when I think of having actually completed it and the warmth I feel listening to what it meant to my team members – now THAT is worth celebrating. I know that something deep within shifted for each one of us – as we were preparing and planning for the walk, as we walked and as we met a couple of times after the event to celebrate as a team.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">So showing up today for me was truly to celebrate the spirit that Terra Trots carried through the event and after – the spirit that in some ways still sneaks up in what we feel about ourselves, and the various roles we hold in our personal and professional spaces.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Also, showing up today was for me was to reinforce to myself that while mainstream definitions of success have their own value, can we all also celebrate those achievements that do not fit the mainstream measuring scales? The way we pushed our own self-limiting beliefs through the preparation and the event, the courage with which we challenged the strength of friendships within the team as we put it through this kind of endurance, the humility with which we accepted different ways of being and giving in a team – all these were our achievements, immeasurable by any scales, and truly worth celebrating.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">And finally showing up today was for me to remind myself – that no matter what the end goal is – challenging self-limiting beliefs, strengthening relationships, dealing with judgements – both inside and outside, fighting against poverty or walking 100 kilometres in 48 hours – it all comes down to taking one step at a time and staying with it.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">So here’s to you Terra Trots – Navi, Anjana, Priya, Suja &amp; Shashi for this amazing, life changing adventure! </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HtpdL1Kmd_w/T9JTakAu-TI/AAAAAAAAANY/hoD2b86IT4w/s1600/pp2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="187" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HtpdL1Kmd_w/T9JTakAu-TI/AAAAAAAAANY/hoD2b86IT4w/s320/pp2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><br /></div></div>purple pitarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00426253190781670126noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6219935642920796634.post-52662827164010828062012-01-10T13:31:00.002+05:302012-01-10T13:40:36.895+05:30Paying attention....Yesterday I spent a large part of my time in a meeting where I truly had no “real” role to play. A project with multiple stakeholders where I was done with my part. But the other stakeholders seemed to be in some deadlock and I was called in by one of them – why I am still not sure. As I tried to make sense of the agenda and implicit expectations, I felt that the only real reason i was there was because someone had a need to be listened to. When that listening was not happening with one of the stakeholders, he actually hoped I would do the part – so there i was. And I listened. I am not even sure how much that listening will help – but yes, I did what seemed to be the only thing to do.<br /><br />While I was listening, the thing that struck me is how much of attention we pay to the stuff that does not work out as we hoped it would. The things that go wrong. The things that need to be “fixed”. Sadly, all this attention happens at the cost of paying attention to things that actually worked or are going right. Things, which if paid complete attention to, would certainly have the potential to fix the larger problem.<br /><br />With all this in my mind, I stumbled upon this <a href="http://www.ted.com/talks/lang/en/julia_bacha.html">Ted Talk by Julia Bacha </a>– amazing coincidence (as all coincidences are!). While she speaks about paying attention to non-violence in a larger global context, it got me thinking about what are some of the things that I pay attention to - as a friend, a mother, a wife, a professional, a citizen on the road. How many times do things that are going all wrong or not meeting my expectations or demanding more that I can give take up my mind space? People around me not living upto my expectations of them – it could be my family, my colleagues, my friends, the security at my gate or even the car driver on the road. And as I nurture all these incidents and experiences with my attention, I know it leaves that much less time for all the things that are truly wonderful, that energise me, that are working out even beyond my own expectations!<br /><br />Also, inside of myself, what are some of the things I pay attention to? How many conversations have I had just in the last week bemoaning to everyone who cares to listen about my thyroid condition? Or how the noise levels at work are completely driving me up the wall! Or even highlighting how little time I spend on myself? Oh the time i spent delving on anger, disappointment, a sense of inadequacy. And at the asme time, how i miss paying attention to all the wonderful blessings, the things that are working just fine, the moments that give me energy, love, understanding and just pure joy! <br /><br />The questions that I therefore ask of myself: can I spend a little more time telling the husband of all the thoughtful little things he does around the house rather than the things i feel he does not do? Or let the little one know how much I enjoy her humming to herself more than reminding her to speak softly to mamma! And reach out to commend that teacher sitting in the sandpit fully present to the child instead of complaining of the noise during playtime? Also loving my body more for all the times it wakes up feeling energised, healthy and hopeful instead of feeling frustrated about why it won’t fit into those jeans I bought last year! Finally paying less attention to moments I feel small or inadequate to the times I feel more whole and complete and filled with life! <br /><br />And I know this to be true - when I pay attention to all these within myself, and when I highlight these in my relationships and other spaces, it will automatically put the things that seem all wrong in the right perspective!purple pitarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00426253190781670126noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6219935642920796634.post-66534316977883270532011-01-25T08:20:00.003+05:302011-01-25T08:29:58.676+05:30A gift from a stranger<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-S6Ne3wX7Wc/TT466jiYdBI/AAAAAAAAAJw/mSiSrhmG9Xc/s1600/birdofparadiseflower09.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-S6Ne3wX7Wc/TT466jiYdBI/AAAAAAAAAJw/mSiSrhmG9Xc/s200/birdofparadiseflower09.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565950967122785298" /></a><br /><br />Bird of Paradise - that's what this exotic flower is called. <br /><br />I didn't know this till a got a call from a stranger some 10 years back on valentine day's eve. Just having moved to Bangalore, I was helping ma-in-law manage her gifting business since the orders seem to be pouring in that day. <br /><br />So this stranger asked me if i knew what a bird of paradise was. My response - sir we deliver only flowers, not pets (!!). He patiently explained that he as indeed asking for a flower. I said I could check with my florist (and discovered that he was right after all!)<br /><br />Anyway, the order i finally got from this gentleman - two birds of paradise - one big for his wife and one small one for his 2 year old daughter. (Well, we didn't get two flowers of different sizes so we just ended up trimming the stalk for the little one)<br /><br />Since then, every time i see this flower - it reminds me about this stranger - a loving husband, a thoughtful father - and that brings a smile to me! It's amazing how random strangers can touch our lives without ever knowing it.....purple pitarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00426253190781670126noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6219935642920796634.post-17112432949324568682011-01-17T11:07:00.001+05:302011-01-17T11:08:21.884+05:30On vulnerabilityAn inspiring talk by Brene Brown on the power of vulnerability - that also inspired me to break the shell and re-start blogging :). hope my friends and family enjoys it as much as I did:<br /><br />http://www.ted.com/talks/lang/eng/brene_brown_on_vulnerability.htmlpurple pitarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00426253190781670126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6219935642920796634.post-73657065526839515972011-01-17T10:55:00.003+05:302011-01-17T11:00:24.366+05:30Difficult Choices!I know this is a rather old incident - and I have shared it with some of my friends, but still want to put it here, lest I forget. And as it has always been, an interesting way of looking at life through the wisdom of a now 6 year old!<br /><br />Nia: mamma, who do you like more - pappa or me?<br /><br />me: well i like both of you as much nia - just in different ways.<br /><br />nia: yeah mamma, i can understand it can be really difficult choosing. Even pappa has a tough time choosing when I ask him<br /><br />me: oh - when you ask him who he likes more - you or me? (tho' for me it's rather obvious I must say!!!)<br /><br />nia: no no mamma, when i ask him: what do you like more pappa- cheese or peanut butter!<br /><br />Ah well, difficult choices indeed and how the child perceives it!!!purple pitarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00426253190781670126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6219935642920796634.post-78704915588658064962011-01-17T10:35:00.004+05:302011-01-17T10:55:47.146+05:302011 - Here I come!wooo hoooo - a long hiatus from blogging. have missed it more than my fan following (read family) might have missed my random musings! So decided to get back to it in the new year - hopefully a bit more regularly. Though it's been a while that the new year began, I wanted my first blog to be about things I am grateful for in the year that went by:<br /><br />- time with my family living far far away and connecting in different ways<br />- seeing my relationship with the not-so-little one change and still enjoying every minute with her<br />- discovering the excitement and skill in cooking<br />- experimenting with new way of working with kids and seeing it work in small ways<br />- connecting with some of my women friends with whom i was missing some 'we' time<br />- connecting with myself in more intimate ways<br />- finding a dream home<br />- making peace with some of the relationships that I value but didn't seem to work well<br />- actually getting a home loan despite the odds<br />- putting on weight over the year and actually being ok about it<br />- finally finally getting the name change in my PAN card!<br />- seeing some shifts and miracles at work<br />- confronting some old fears and taking tiny tiny steps in making peace with them<br /><br />A rather cryptic blog I can see - ah well- writing just for myself to begin with - a good start indeed!purple pitarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00426253190781670126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6219935642920796634.post-28966683047194825122010-07-24T11:44:00.000+05:302010-07-24T11:44:51.736+05:30Summer 2010 - Los Altos<a href="http://goo.gl/photos/uwNX" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right;margin-bottom:1em;margin-left:1em"><img border="0" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_-S6Ne3wX7Wc/TEqDPeYnN-E/AAAAAAAAAHA/IbFsIOdZeyk/s160-c/Summer2010LosAltos.jpg"></a>purple pitarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00426253190781670126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6219935642920796634.post-57725812374132306132010-05-29T04:48:00.003+05:302010-05-29T04:57:15.977+05:30Chef in the MakingDay 1 - Tentatively rolling rotis <br /><br />Day 2 - Less tentatively rolling rotis <br /><br />Day 3 - Making rotis end to end (mini-disaster)<br /><br />Day 4 - Making rotis end to end (success!)<br /><br />Day 5 - Experiment making <a href="http://www.tarladalal.com/recipe.asp?id=630">theplas</a> (not bad at all)<br /><br />Day 5 - Super confidently making methi theplas (ho hum)<br /><br />Day 6 - Making <a href="http://www.tarladalal.com/Recipe.asp?id=2420">Peas parathas</a> (yumm!)<br /><br />What a week....wooooohooooo!<br /><br />PS thanks to M-i-l and <a href="http://www.tarladalal.com">Tarla Dalal</a>purple pitarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00426253190781670126noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6219935642920796634.post-22080852136112132142010-05-27T07:17:00.003+05:302010-05-27T07:29:14.193+05:30Life's little lessonOne of the things i did as a child was to make a wish on your fallen eyelash. And I taught this to my little daughter Nia when she was barely two. Simple magical act - carefully place the eyelash on the back of your hand, close your eyes, make a wish and blow away the eyelash. And you know your wish will come true if: one - you keep your wish a secret and two that the eyelash has to fly off! <br /><br />Nia always believed in the magic and strangely she always ignored the conditions. When she newly learnt this wishing process, she would blow away the eyelash and immediately tell me what she had wished for ( i guess her way of ensuring that the wish came true!) So much for Condition #1. <br /><br />As far as the second (and easier) condition goes - here's what i discovered her take was a few days earlier. Nia just finisher her bath and i found her eyelash stuck to her cheek. As i was placing the eyelash on the back of her wet hand, i told her "baby, wipe your hand dry else the eyelash won't fly off."<br /><br />Her response? "mamma, good thing if it doesn't fly off - i can keep wishing till, it decides to!"<br /><br />Thank you for this lesson - my little believer of magic :)purple pitarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00426253190781670126noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6219935642920796634.post-38608156456118898662010-05-22T08:45:00.003+05:302010-05-22T09:41:27.556+05:30A Holiday with a DifferenceSummer break @ <a href="http://www.magicpuddles.com/">Magic Puddles</a> and unlike all other summers, we haven't been able to plan a holiday back home to Bombay. So been hanging around in Bangalore partly planning for the next academic session and partly catching up on long-pending personal work. When this break started out, it wasn't a happy thought - not being able to take time off completely, still having to work during THE break of the year. <br /><br />But a week down the line, i am quite enjoying this pace. Knowing that i don't have to rush through things. Being able to spend quality time with the folks at home and at the same time being able to attend to work. Meeting friends in the middle of the week. Finally learning to make rotis (total success) and experimenting with gujju cooking (total disaster!) Catching up on random movies being shown on TV. Reading up some cool stuff. <br /><br />And the best part of the week has been the amount of introverted time i am able to create at different times of the day. This introverted time feels doubly special since life had been in a frenzy since the beginning of this year. So during these special times, i see myself taking the time to clarify things for myself. At times, stepping back and watching how i react in different situations. Thinking through my priorities. Connecting with a deep part within myself and in the process being able to connect better with people around me. <br /><br />Best of all, i love seeing myself zealously guarding these moments of introverted time. I am so looking forward to the next week where the break continues. And i hope to be able to continue creating it for myself even after i resume my routine work!purple pitarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00426253190781670126noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6219935642920796634.post-80206483680506271212010-05-08T06:09:00.004+05:302010-05-08T06:39:25.772+05:30My Simple TruthEveryone needs or has a place where they can recharge their life energies, their soul - or so i read in several feel-good articles (which for some weird reason are directed only towards female readers). And many of these articles will have a few suggestions for seeking souls like me about where you could find this place. I always romanticized that for me the special place would be at a friend's dinning table (desperately borrowed from one of the lists i guess) but never did find that table. I pretty much had dismissed the idea that such a place can exist until....<br /><br />...work took me back to this eco-farm in the outskirts of Bangalore managed by a trust. We'd taken children there for an overnight stay as part of the summer camp. And despite the energy and alertness required when out with a group of kids (and a sleepless night) as i left the place the next day, i felt totally energized. I naturally thought that it was this place that has the magic for me. It is packed with lovely memories of times that i have spent with friends. It's quiet and peaceful, air and water cleaner than what i get back in my city home and i feel blessed with the generosity of my friend who manages this place. <br /><br />And then it struck me - it was not the place, but the sheer act of driving on relatively empty roads, away from my routine and then the quiet journey back (i returned ahead of the kids - so that explains the silence!). That's when it struck me, my special 'soul-place' is not a solid still place, but it is the movement. I get this same sense of peace in crowded buses and trains (so long as i get a window seat to myself). Whether i am doing the driving or not, I love the road - stretching ahead, winding. I love things going past as the vehicle moves - in some sense so transient and yet so stable! It amazes me to see how much land is available outside of our over-crowded cities. I feel overwhelmed by the the richness of colours, textures, smells and sounds around. Sometimes i am completely absorbed in my thinking and sometimes I step back and watch how i think. And in the fast moving, i am able to connect with a deep stillness inside of me.<br /><br />Finally, it feels good to discover that my soul-place lies just outside the doorstep, waiting for me no matter where i am!purple pitarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00426253190781670126noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6219935642920796634.post-7850146759542085802010-04-22T16:29:00.009+05:302010-04-23T13:29:03.519+05:30Colours of the WorldIn the middle of yet another exciting summer camp with kids in Bangalore. Our theme for the first session is 'water world'. So in class today, i decide to tell them a story about a little duck called Davy who decides to follow the migrating swallows and has a little adventure on his own. Although he feels that he has crossed the ocean and the desert and the mountains and reached the warm plains, he actually has just gone a little distance away from his little pond in the woods. The story ends with him getting saved from being devoured by a cat just in time by his mommy who had come looking for him.<br /><br />At the end of the story, we decided to colour a picture of mamma and baby duck swimming happily in the pond. We have a few common 3-4 sets of crayons that is shared by the batch. Before i could say, alright let's begin, there was this wild scramble for the yellow crayon. EVERYONE wanted to colour the baby and mamma duck yellow. Now i for one have never seen a yellow duck (except of course Davy in the story!) <br /><br />So here's what was the perfectly coloured picture of a duck for the kids:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-S6Ne3wX7Wc/S9D9C5-EJHI/AAAAAAAAAE0/sEDfHEV8PLQ/s1600/yellow+duck.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 190px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-S6Ne3wX7Wc/S9D9C5-EJHI/AAAAAAAAAE0/sEDfHEV8PLQ/s200/yellow+duck.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463144574363116658" /></a> (Obviously by the kid who managed to actually find the yellow crayon in the box!)<br /><br />Not wanting to miss this learning opportunity, i got the children to talk about different birds that they might have seen and how all birds are differently coloured. We then talked about ducks. Just the previous day, some kids had got a duck picture for their show & tell and we discussed how there actually could b different colours on the duck. And post this little talk, besides stopping the fight for the evasive yellow crayon, here's what i got:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-S6Ne3wX7Wc/S9D9b3UuS9I/AAAAAAAAAE8/q2vvVfYnlIU/s1600/coloured+duck.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 182px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-S6Ne3wX7Wc/S9D9b3UuS9I/AAAAAAAAAE8/q2vvVfYnlIU/s200/coloured+duck.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463145003149577170" /></a><br /><br />Quite happy with the results, i started to get the kids to close the activity, put things back in place and get ready for home, when little Aditi walks upto me and says, 'vijji, i think the baby duck's got to be yellow....but who says the water HAS TO BE blue??" And here's what her picture looked like:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-S6Ne3wX7Wc/S9D-Xedmu_I/AAAAAAAAAFE/HrnQMSPEbNc/s1600/water.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 165px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-S6Ne3wX7Wc/S9D-Xedmu_I/AAAAAAAAAFE/HrnQMSPEbNc/s200/water.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463146027268094962" /></a><br /><br />Well, actually when was the last time i saw blue water anyway?!!purple pitarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00426253190781670126noreply@blogger.com1